


with your breath close to my ear, I always measure the distance from earth to heaven

by kenmaniacc



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: All is gay in Sendai, Festival of Lights, M/M, Matsukawa Issei devotion for Hanamaki kills me, Romance, They Finally Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmaniacc/pseuds/kenmaniacc
Summary: “What are you looking at?” he asks, all half lidded eyes and lithe hands, fingertips pink with the cold.The fingerless gloves do little to nothing to protect such skin. delicate as it looks though, he isn’t.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	with your breath close to my ear, I always measure the distance from earth to heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caandlelit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caandlelit/gifts).



“What are you looking at?” he asks, all half lidded eyes and lithe hands, fingertips pink with the cold.

The fingerless gloves do little to nothing to protect such skin. Delicate as it looks though, he isn’t.

A lethal deity, a snake dancing and entrancing before it goes for the kill.

Issei’s neck is always bared for his taking.

“What do you think I am looking at?” There’s a lilt in his voice, throaty and husky with a hint of licor, the same responsible for the burning in his veins.

But maybe that is because his blood has turned into molten honey as they kept walking through the zelkova trees of jozenji-dori, an echo from the festival of lights that ended only minutes ago, along with the rest of the year. Kotodai-koen park is slowly left behind, as is the twinkle of those million little bulbs while they pass by people as drunk as they are.

The people dance, they laugh, they wave with no regret to other strangers and to them, but not once do ebony eyes waiver from pastel pink hair, roseate lips or the copper beady pair that stares right back at him. Takahiro walks with his back to the unknown path, fingers now on his pockets, smirk unswerving.

Issei wants to run to him, to crush his body against cold tiles of a nearby building wall, at a dark, dirty alley, do dark and dirty things.

“Me.” He hears him say, with the petulance of a child and an attitude that only alcohol can unbridle.

It makes something raw and tender untangle from Issei’s ribs, wreathing under his flesh as his steps move closer, trying to break the forever equal space between them.

He is done with equality, hadn’t wanted it for months as they would misstep around each other — only it’s a dancer they both agreed upon.

Could be too complicated.

Could be too perfect.

“You.” issei repeats, mind traveling through poems and stories, the hundreds of books that pile on the shelves of his room.

Each and every one he could dedicated to him.

“Me. Me, me, me. I could say new year, new me but it wouldn’t be true, IIssei.” he breathes and, suddenly, he is all too close.

Issei’s head softly tilts to the side, eyes darting to lips, to eyes, to a pinkish nose that certainly ain’t different from his own because the night is fucking cold and he just wants to go home, really, _terribly_ so... only he doesn’t. Because Takahiro is a God in front of him, immovable, unyielding and holding him, preventing him to even breath with his words, with the warmth each syllable that mingles in hot puffs with Issei’s every sigh.

Issei wants to worship him, every and each of his curves.

“Is me enough?” Takahiro asks, Issei sighs, raggedly and lost in the beauty of him. 

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘥,

𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥

𝘣𝘺 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥

𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦

𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦

— 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴.

There’s an ingenuity to it that shouldn’t be fair, Takahiro is not naive. He is cruelly perfect, perfectly imperfect in every edge, limitless in his limits.

And talking about those, though, Issei has found his.

He just snaps, pushed to the point where his skin has became too taunt and now it burns to the careless touch of Takahiros hands as he finally swallows any other word that could leave those rosé lips with his own mouth. He drinks and understands that this is his zenith, the twining of wet tongues as his fingers hold takahiro’s face possessively, licking in, drowning on.

Against his lips, Takahiro’s ones tug in a smile and a moan, his arms now around Issei’s neck as the taller man bends to keep the assault, all bruising lips and setting their pace as he presses a walk until they are in an alley.

Dark, dirty.

When he breaks the kiss, their mouths are ruddy, shiny with spit and as Takahiro wipes a thumb across his lower lip issei does the same with him, testing the softness of his mouth. Is agonizing, and as the other kisses his fingertips he aches.

He aches and he aches, hand going down to press at Takahiro’s neck, thumb against his pulsing point. at it, the man under his touch inhales and Issei sighs, lost and doomed in his uncontrollable affection.

“Make me yours.” he mumbles, begs, their foreheads finally resting together, Takahiro’s hands coming to rest at his wrist. Issei hadn’t noticed that he had closed his eyes, but when he opens them again, the slightly smaller man is starring right back at him.

His eyes are so earnest and so soft, so tender with affection, that every ounce of lust dissolves into the purest form of love. Issei supposes that he really yearns for him in every sense of the word.

“Oh, issei... Only if you make me yours everyday of this year.” His tone was low, syrupy sweet, and issei smiles and almost cries, curly fringe almost getting in the way of his eyes.

Because really, how silly can Takahiro be?

“I am gonna make you mine everyday of my life.”

**Author's Note:**

> so this was extremely experimental and yet, i hope, enjoyful enough! this was a present for ames, but in a way it ended up being a present for myself too.  
> anyways, comments and kudos always makes me happy, and i'd love to know your thoughts! if you'd like, come scream matsuhana with me at the twitter @kenmaniacc!!   
> to anyone interested, the poem in the middle is a part of one called undress me by michael faudet!!  
> have a nice one <3


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